


His First Friend

by HQuinn



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Forgiveness, M/M, Memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 10:53:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8575552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HQuinn/pseuds/HQuinn
Summary: The Kirkwall gang, having fled the war, are in Seheron hunting slavers. Where they set up camp is near a place dear and yet painful for Fenris.He remembers his time with the Fog Warriors and the first friend he ever made.Hawke helps him to forgive himself for what came next.





	

Artwork by beammetothemoon.tumblr.com as part of the TBAA Glow Bang Challenge:

 

Fenris strode through the camp, Bethany was in the process of starting up a fire with a flick of her wrist. He tried to hide his flinch, still not used to the pull of magic on his tattoos, even after so many years with Hawke and his crew. Hawke was nearby talking with Anders, planning their next move. It had been six months since the battle of Kirkwall.

Even Fenris, despite his disagreements over the years with the mage, couldn’t argue that Meredith had gone too far. While he didn’t agree with Anders’ method to bring change, he understood the need for something dramatic. As such, when Hawke decided to not only spare the mage, but bring him along with them when they fled, Fenris supported Hawke’s decisions.  The man had never led them astray before, and besides, he loved Hawke, Fenris would follow him to the ends of Thedas. Hawke sweetened the deal by offering for the four of them to start hunting slavers. It was on this mission that they now found themselves in Seheron.

“Fen?” Hawke called out as Fenris started to leave the camp.

“I will be back shortly.” Fenris answered curtly. His skin had felt like it was crawling ever since they had arrived.

Fenris walked swiftly through the woods until he could no longer hear the voices of the others. He felt jumpy and uneasy. He hadn’t felt this way since Danarius died nearly two years ago. He continued through the dark woods, the occasional splattering of moonlight through the trees his only light. Above and around him he could hear various animals moving about, squirrels and foxes most likely, but in his hyper-aware subconscious, it was not beasts he was hearing, but warriors, hidden in the fog. He jumped as a branch brushed against his arm.

“Fasta vass”, he swore as he whipped around to see no one was there at all. Eventually he came to a clearing bathed in moonlight. He removed his sword and leaned it up against a tree before sitting on the ground, leaning back against that same tree. He closed his eyes and let his breath even out as his mind drifted.

***

He ran, and he couldn’t stop. If he stopped, Master would find him. If Master found him he’d be whipped. Only the lyrium under his skin would keep him from being killed by the Magister. Maybe. So he kept running, his lungs working harder and harder to pull in air. Fenris tripped and scrambled back up, positive he could feel the hot breath of his Master on the back of his neck.

Tripping for the third time, Fenris felt the panic begin to rise in this throat like bile. It would only be a matter of time. He would be found, made an example of. It didn’t matter if he was Master’s favorite. He had run away from his Master. Fenris’ eyes darted around the woods until he spotted a hollowed out tree. It was large enough that he could crouch inside of it and pull his knees up to himself. Resting his head upon them, within minutes, he fell asleep.

Waking to the sound of leaves crunching as someone approached, Master had found him. Fenris shivered with fear of what that would mean for him. Fenris continued to shiver, his hands felt clammy, his eyes glazed over. He passed out just as a shadow fell over the entrance to the tree.

***

Fenris blinked slowly as he awoke, flickering lights slowly becoming more focused images on the wall. Firelight danced shadows on the walls while he focused on a shield and sword resting on a stand. His breathing felt labored, no doubt a spell by Danarius to keep him immobile. His head felt lightheaded and hot. The sound of movement drew his eye and a large male walked in carrying wood. He was dressed in little more than a loincloth and boots.

When his eyes fell upon Fenris’, the elf began to panic. Was this his new master? Would he be angered that Fenris had apparently fallen asleep in the man’s bed instead of on the floor?

“Kost, elf.” The man’s voice was a low rumble, soothing almost. He put the wood he’d been carrying down and approached Fenris, kneeling beside him. He placed a wet cloth over Fenris’ forehead and Fenris nearly moaned at how soothing and cooling it was.

“Drink,” The large man offered fenris a cup, which the elf found contained water as he greedily gulped it down.

“You are still with fever. Rest, you are safe here.” The man pulled the cloth off Fenris’ head and wet it again. “We will talk when you are more rested.”

“I should be on the floor, Master.” Fenris tried weakly to pull himself from the bed.

The man visibly flinched. He gently pushed Fenris back onto the bed.“You are in the bed, stay. And I am not your master. Rest, you are safe, I promise you no harm will come to you as you sleep.”

Fenris could not understand what the man was saying, the fever causing him to feel drained and disoriented. Before he could try to move from the bed again he felt the strong pull of sleep and he lost consciousness once more.

The second time he awoke he was feeling more like himself. The world did not appear to be spinning any longer, and he no longer felt as if he was sweating. Fenris slowly sat up, sliding his legs over the side of the bed as he did.

“Ah, you are awake now.” Fenris looked up to see the same large man from before approach him with a tray of food, no doubtedly to require Fenris to feed him while the elf starved. Fenris’ stomach growled at the smell of the food.

“Eat,” the warrior encouraged him. “You need strength. You were quite ill, elf.”

Fenris watched for a moment, this was surely a trap. He’d seen others fall for this, beaten for daring to think they had a right to their master’s food.

The man seemed to sense his hesitation. “Do you have a name, elf?”

“Fenris.” His voice cracked from disuse.

The man handed him a cup filled with water. “Fenris. I am Karth. You are among my people and I meant what I said before, you are safe here. Eat, you need to heal.” Karth then held his hand out to indicate the food again.

Fenris’ stomach growled again, not caring if this was a trap. Fenris decided he was a fool but a hungry on and began to dig in. The tray was full of a variety of meats, cheeses and breads. He began to scarf it all down. Karth’s hand landed on top of one of Fenris’ and he knew immediately he’d chosen unwisely and would now be punished.

“Slower, Fenris. You will make yourself sicker if you eat too fast.”

Fenris blinked up at Karth, in wonder and uncertainty, but then began eating once more, slower this time. Taking the time to actually _taste_ the foods before him. His stomach stopped clutching and making angry noises as he continued to eat.

As he finished up the food he heard a knock at the door. Karth opened it and stepped back to allow a large qunari in.

“Ah, our friend has awoken!” The qunari smiled.

“Hatok, this is Fenris. Fenris, Hatok.” Karth moved his hand between the two of them as way of introduction.

Fenris couldn’t help but openly gawk at Hatok. He’d never seen a qunari before, only heard stories of their brutality and barbarism in Tevinter. Seeing one up close, he was even larger than Fenris could have imagined.

***

The following day when Fenris was feeling healthier, Karth took him around the village introducing him to others as he went. It was strange to Fenris, this warrior telling others his name, acting as if he was a person like the rest of them instead of a slave. He was unsure what to make of it. Anytime Karth caught Fenris with his head low or walking behind him, Karth would stop and turn to the elf.

“You are not a slave here, Fenris. Hold your head high, here you are friend.” He told the elf several times.

As the days turned into weeks, Fenris felt himself becoming more and more relaxed among the group. He had discovered they were the Fog Warriors he had heard people whisper about in Tevinter. It was a mix of human, elf and qunari that made up the group, men and women alike. Fenris had a hard time understanding how these people, who had been nothing but warm to him, could be the same brutal killers he’d heard of.

He stood leaning against a tree, watching the Fog Warriors mill about their day. Several returning from a hunt, while others gathered around them to take the haul for cleaning. He’d been there enough to know there’d be others to turn the pelts into clothing and bedding, and still others to build the fires to cook the catch into dinner for the whole of them. Karth approached watching Fernis standing with a furrowed brow.

“You seem concerned. You see something I am not?” Karth had come to find Fenris was quite perceptive, no doubt from his training as Danarius’ bodyguard. Karth’s eyes scanned the land before them trying to see what Fenris saw.

Fenris looked surprised, as if just now noticing Karth was here. “Mmm.” His voice low. “There is nothing here of concern.”

“Then what bothers you?” Karth turned to look at the elf again.

“This here, it is good. But it is only a matter of time before my master finds me again. These tattoos, they make me too valuable to simply let me go. It is only a matter of time before I am dragged back to him and potentially killed for daring to run.” Fenris looked at the lines on his arm as he talked.

“Then we will make sure that will not happen.” Karth replied matter of factly, nodding his head. “You will need training, though.”

Fenris quirked up an eyebrow. “I am a well trained fighter.”

“No.” Karth shook his head. “You are a well trained body-guard. I have seen you spar with the others. You are good at defending someone you are protecting. You are not good at defending yourself. Instead, you use yourself as a shield. If you are to survive a battle against your _former_ master, we will need to teach you to use all your skills as weapons to protect yourself and take down your attacker.”

“Why would you do all this for me? I am just a slave.” Fenris looked at his feet. They would need to be cleaned. Danarius would be livid if he saw his feet so filthy.

“Because you are a friend, Fenris. Even if you do not know that yet.” Karth gave the elf a small smile. “And you are Basalit-an.”

Fenris tilted his head. “I do not understand that word.”

Karth looked in thought for a moment. “In simple terms, it means you are worthy. And slavery is wrong, we would not allow you to fall back into it.”

“But why?” Fenris asked still unsure. Only his master cared about him. These people here, they seemed to care, but it could be a trick. A way to use him.

“Look around. You see qunari, elves and humans. We all work together because all of us, we believe both Tevinter and the Qun are wrong. We fight against the control the Qun places over the lives of those within it. We fight against the corruption, abuses and slavery in Tevinter. We use fog to confuse our enemies and strike with precision. We will not stop until all are free to live their lives as they choose.” Karth’s arm gestured around the camp. “You may still be too new from the whip of your master, but you are a free man now Fenris. You are free to stay or free to leave. You are free to join us or free to make your own path. The choice, my friend, is yours and yours alone.”

Fenris looked at his feet again. “I...I have never had choice before, I am uncertain what to do.”

“Sure you have,” Karth nodded. “You had the choice to run for freedom or to wait like a good slave for your _former_ master to return. You chose freedom. We will help you defend that choice.” Karth lifted his hand to pat Fenris on the back but noticed the elf flinch, and lowered it. He cursed anyone who had ever hurt Fenris in his head. “I know it is too soon for you, my friend, but you are safe here. If you are to stay, I would recommend you talk with Hatok for lessons on qunlat. It will serve you well even if you travel away from us.”

Fenris nodded. He would do as Karth said simply because it was familiar, taking orders and carrying them out.

“For now, come, sit by the fire and have a drink and allow me to teach you the wonder that is Wicked Grace.” Karth gave the elf another reassuring smile.

***

Fenris jumped slightly when he heard a tree branch snap. He looked to the right and the tension in him relaxed when he saw Hawke standing not fifteen feet away.

“You would make a horrible rogue.” Fenris shook his head and gave the man what he hoped was a smile that hid his feelings of shame.

“Well then, good thing I’m a mage.” Hawke smirked. His smile disappeared just as quickly. “I was worried about you, Fen. You’ve been gone a while.”

“I am fine, Thomas.” Fenris looked straight ahead again.

“You are a terrible liar, elf.” Hawke sighed and walked over, sitting next to Fenris. His hand searched out Fenris’ and laced their fingers together. His thumb ran along the back of Fenris’ hand, something he had discovered long ago would soothe the elf. Hawke lifted their hands to his lips and placed a soft kiss on the back of his lover’s hand. “Tell me what is disturbing you, Fen. Maybe I can help.”

“You cannot fix everything Hawke. Kirkwall should have shown you that.” Fenris grumbled.

“Ouch. You are feeling very prickly today I see.” Hawke nudged him with his shoulder. His voice soft, wanting to help Fenris relax.

Fenris sighed. “I am sorry, Thomas. That was unworthy.” He tilted his head and looked back at Hawke.

“So then tell me what’s got you so upset, Fen. We’re far enough away the others can’t hear.” Hawke brushed his hand along Fenris’ cheek and pressed his lips softly to the elf’s, feeling the other man relax slightly.

Fenris’ chest tightened as emotion overtook him. “Over that next hill there. That is where the Fog Warriors kept their camp. The trees are such that even from the top of the hill, you could not see the camp or the fire light until you were right up on it. It gave them cover.”

Hawke nodded in understanding. Fenris had told him what had happened with the Fog Warriors a long time ago. At the time, the elf thought Hawke would hate him for it, call him a monster. Instead, Hawke had pulled the elf in for a hug and reassured him.

“Fen?”

“They were my friends. There was one in particular, Karth. He was, well nothing like you, your humor probably would have annoyed him to no end.” Fenris looked at Hawke with a shy smile.

“I’ll have you know, I’m very charming.” Hawke put his arm around Fenris and pulled him closer.

Fenris rested his head on the mage’s shoulder. “He was the first friend had I ever made. He cared about me, about my being free, and wanted nothing in return. He taught me to protect myself, he showed me I had worth beyond these tattoos. And in exchange for his loyalty, I killed him.”

Hawke felt wetness on his robe and realized Fenris was crying. Fenris never cried, not in all the years Hawke had known him. Hawke squeezed the arm that was around his elf tighter. “Fen, no. Trust me, he would not blame you. If he was really your friend as you say, he would understand. And in a way, his death led to you getting your freedom for good. Being your friend, he would have willingly made the sacrifice to give you that.”

“How can you know?” Fenris lifted his head and looked at Hawke. He thought for sure Hawke would be disappointed or disgusted with him, but he saw nothing but love reflecting in the man’s eyes.

Hawke brushed away the tears from Fenris’ cheeks with his thumb and kissed him again softly on his lips. “Because I would do no less for you. Honor your friend, mourn his loss, but cherish his sacrifice and what it gave you in return.”

“How do I do that?” Fenris rested his head again on Hawke’s shoulder.

“You already are, Fen. You are living your life, you have opened your heart enough to let love in. You’ve opened your mind enough to befriend mages. And now, you are making a difference for others. You are helping to stop others becoming slaves by killing slavers. You showed Orana how to live as a free elf. All of these things, they honor Karth. He would be proud of the man you’ve become Fen. As am I.”

Fenris said nothing for a long time, just sitting beside Hawke and looking out into Seheron. “Thank you, Thomas. For listening and for your words.”

“Of course,” Hawke placed a kiss Fenris’ hair. “I love you, you broody porcupine.”

“I love you too. _Mage._ ” Fenris replied, emphasizing the word mage in the same way he used to say it years ago before he had learned to trust, before he had learned to love.

Hawke chuckled into Fenris’ hair, showing he understood the humor intended. He ran a reassuring hand along Fenris’ arm as he held him close.


End file.
